


in your warmth (i forget how cold it can get)

by Mousewife



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: All Humans, Alternate Universe, Casual Haunting, F/M, Ghosts, Haunting, More characters to come, Past Character Death, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousewife/pseuds/Mousewife
Summary: Barry finds a ghost rummaging through the fridge of his new house one night. They make a deal.





	in your warmth (i forget how cold it can get)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multichapter fic in many years. Oh boy.

Barry stares at the form floating in his kitchen and finds no words to properly express the feelings he is experiencing toward the event transpiring before him.

There sure is a ghost hovering, back turned to him, right in front of his open fridge, rustling through the contents within.

"Uh," he finds himself saying, only half willingly, "can I... help you?"

The spectral form stills, a half eaten container of Chinese food in its not quite opaque hand.

For a split second Barry feels a jolt of fear run through him, brought on by the fact that _holy shit he sure did just speak to a ghost holy shit a ghost just heard him that is definitely a thing that is happening right now_.

But the second he feels his fight or flight response start to kick in any hopes he has of doing, well, _anything_  to run or? Fight? The ghost? Are dashed like waves on a rocky shore. Before he can respond the ghost whirls around to face him in what would have been a _pretty magnificent_ twirl of red robes if it had been alive and Barry can't help but flinch as he prepares for what he _knows_  will be his untimely death.

Which... never comes. No- instead the ghost just gestures exaggeratedly at the slightly soggy paper box in its (hers? It- she's- definitely a young woman) hand, an expression of clear _disdain_  crossing her features.

"You _live_  like this?!"  
  
Needless to say, Barry finds himself to flabbergasted to respond. Or do... much of anything but just sort of stare at the ghost currently judging his eating habits.  
  
When he doesn't answer she sighs, rolling her eyes and tossing the sad, cold container into the sink. "Hello?" She calls, floating closer to him, waving a hand before his face. "Anybody in there?" She asks, "are you dead, nerd boy? Did my incredible, unearthly beauty kill you?"  
  
"Uh..." he starts again, trying to find his words as his brain slowly starts to reboot, "you're, uh, a ghost."  
  
The woman before him jerks back, gazing down at him with an incredulous look. She glances down at herself, holding her arms out as if to inspect them. "Oh shit you right," she says, following it up quickly with another roll of her eyes and a scoff. "Yeah, no duh, my dude, what gave it away? The floating? Or the fact that you can see through me but only kind of?" She hovers back and up a little to sit on the bar, crossing one leg over the other and folding her arms as she stares him down. "You're deflecting. Please tell me you _usually_  eat better than that shit Chinese food."  
  
"H- hey," Barry defends, holding his hands up before him, "I- I just moved in a few days ago and I've been, uh, a- a little busy. I've barely even gotten my bedroom stuff unpacked, let alone anything else." He gives a sweeping gesture to the living room behind him, littered with stacks of cardboard boxes. "Cut a guy some slack."  
  
The woman (ghost? Woman? Ghostly woman?) on his bar frowns a little, looking him over. "So you don't usually eat like that?"  
  
"Like... what?"  
  
"Like a slob."  
  
Barry shakes his head quickly but also can't make eye contact with her, more than giving himself away. "N- no! Of course not I, uh, I... l- like I said, I've just been too busy to do much cooking... or shopping... or anything, really." He scratches the back of his neck, a little sheepish, "I just got a job teaching on campus and it was super last minute so it's just been... really hectic."  
  
She narrows her eyes at him, and Barry feels himself start to sweat under her analyzing gaze. "Okay liar," she says as she floats off the bar and then past him, holding up her hand when he opens his mouth to protest. "Not about the college thing," she clarifies, starting to look around at the boxes filling his living room, "about the cooking thing. I absolutely believe you teach at the college but you can't fool me for a second when it comes to your eating habits, nerd boy. I know your type."  
  
"I- I'm not that much of a nerd-"  
  
"Oh yeah?" She asks, turning back toward him and planting her hands on her hips, "whatcha teach, then, my dear scholarly gentleman?"  
  
He feels the blush creep across his cheeks before he can stop it. "Recognizing Signs of Necromancy."  
  
The ghost gives a little laugh before returning to her inspection of the boxes. "That's pretty nerdy, my guy. Back in my _prime_  I was all about Evocation which, as _everyone_  knows, is by far the _coolest_  school of magic."  
  
Barry can't help but perk up as she starts talking about magic, feeling a little more in his element. Before he realizes what he's doing he finds himself following her around his living room, trailing after her as she flits from box to box. "Oh? You were a wizard, then? M- me too!"  
  
"Still a wizard, thanks, and yeah, got that part. What with the whole Necromancy Teacher and all that."  
  
"Well it's, uh, actually more like Anti Necromancy, but-"  
  
"Still stands- super nerdy." She stops on a dime- so quickly that Barry almost walks straight through her, but forces himself to stop and stumble just a bit to avoid doing so. She looks around the room a few times, her robes moving about her in an ethereal kind of way- slow and exaggerated, like they were in water- before ultimately turning back to Barry. "Pans."  
  
He blinks up at her, confused at her sudden statement. Demand? "Excuse me?"  
  
"Your pans. Pots? Cooking instruments?" She gestures to the boxes, "which one are they in? None of your shit is labelled. How are you planning on finding literally anything you need in this mess?"  
  
"I, uh-"  
  
She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Okay, never mind, I'll find them myself. It'll take less time than you trying to figure it out. Tell you what," she plants herself on one of the taller stacks of boxes, not unlike how she did on the bar, "ya girl is, like, double dying to cook something again- it's been like, I dunno, a long fuckin' time since I've been able to and, not to brag, but I'm hella rad in the kitchen. And you, nerd boy-"  
  
"Barry."  
  
"'Scuse?"  
  
"My name? It's Barry," he repeats, crossing his arms, "maybe you could call me my actual name instead of, uh, nerd boy?"  
  
A pause hangs heavy in the air between them as he and the ghost woman stare each other down, waiting for the other to break.  
  
It doesn't last very long. Clearly, the woman lacks that kind of patience. "Okay, Barold-"  
  
"It's just Barry."  
  
"Okay, _Barry_ ," she huffs, "listen I don't _have_  to offer to make you the best dinner you've probably had in the last, like, ten years you know," she tells him, another frown creasing her mouth, "I'm taking pity on you, _Barry_ , because Gods have mercy you look like you need it." She holds a hand up, stopping his protest before it starts, "don't argue. You know I'm right. So anyway, if you bring me the ingredients I ask you to, I'll make you the most bomb-ass meals, like, ever. I also won't terrorize the ever living shit out of house to the point of forcing you to leave. You get to eat and live here and I get to cook and chill, sound good? Mutually beneficial arrangement."  
  
Barry gives himself a few seconds to mull it over, trying to think of anyway this could go wrong. Then, without warning, what she said fully sinks in. "Wait... what _exactly_  do you mean by 'terrorize' and 'won't force me to leave'?"  
  
Cocking her head, she raises an eyebrow at him curiously. "What do you mean what do I mean?" She asks quizzically, "I mean just that. I won't terrorize you and force you to leave my house. Why do you think this place was so cheap? The squeaky plumbing?"  
  
"...the plumbing's squeaky?"  
  
"Barold, I like you, you seem reasonable enough," she tells him, giving a little nod, "you didn't do, well, anything when you found me sorting through your fridge at, what is it, 5am? So you're either reasonable or, like, _really_  stupid and right now I'm hoping it's the former. You also haven't questioned the presence of a ghost in the house you just paid good money for which, frankly, I like in a person."  
  
"I do actually have some questions about that," he tells honestly, "I just, uh, didn't really know how to bring it up? Without sounding rude."  
  
The grin she gives him is cheeky and wide and she makes the motion of clapping him on the shoulder, though her hand phases right through him (which he finds to be one of  _the_  most uncomfortable sensations of his life and is immediately overcome with relief that he didn't stumble through her). "That's cute, Barry, real cute. And we'll get there, we'll get there, but right now- how 'bout that cooking deal?"  
  
He doesn't really think he has much of a choice in the matter. And really, even if he did, this unexpected ghost in his house looks so happy at the prospect of just getting to cook, he doesn't think he could turn her down even if he wanted to. "Uh, yeah, sure? I guess... that sounds pretty good."  
  
The holler of excitement she gives nearly scares _him_  to death as she proceeds to throw her fist and then herself up into the air, spinning as she goes straight through the ceiling and up through the second floor. "Yes!" He hears her call distantly, "you won't regret it!"  
  
And then suddenly she's behind him again, giving him a start yet again. "I'll leave you a list of what to get, yeah?" She tells him, all toothy grins, "anything you can't eat? Won't eat? Tell me now or forever hold your peace."  
  
"Uh, milk?"  
  
"No dairy, gotcha." She floats around him, forcing him to turn in circles to follow her, "okay, yeah, I'll leave you a list of what to get on the bar." Barry catches her glancing back at the clock on the wall, and then outside, "yeah. I won't be around much longer, so I gotta get on this. You can stay if you want but I can't promise I'll be real interesting, so..."  
  
Barry gives a little shake of his head, "no, I, uh, I'll leave you to it? I kinda... wanna get a little more sleep. Or see if I, uh, I guess end up waking up from this? I'm not one hundred percent convinced this isn't a dream, so."  
  
She laughs again, bright and hot like a flame. "I get that, dude, you get some shut eye for the both of us, huh?" She winks. Barry flushes. She laughs again. "Barold, I think this is the start of a _beautiful_ friendship."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this sitting in a Starbucks at 7am after working a shift on three hours of sleep. It was going to be a one shot but it... got away from me. I'm very excited.
> 
> Find me @mousewife on tumblr and/or @mousewaifu on twitter!


End file.
